UnFiltered
by John Cribati
Summary: Being reincarnated wasn't what I expected. I sometimes remember being alive. And older. And a dude (sorta? Gender is weird). But I have this life, where I'm psychic (among other things). It actually kind of sucks but at least I don't have a ferret head or something. [An SI/OC Story that messes with Canon a tad bit. Triggered Fanboys don't interact]


Jeez, that green-haired kid just has a way about him.

He knows he's not winning this fight- I can smell the bitter resignation within the stifling hot smoke of his determination. But that determination means he isn't going to stay down.

Spiky Blond smells like tart pride and rancid anger as he steps closer, fingertips sparking and a feral grin on his face. He says... something in Japanese. Not that I know a lick of the language.

His two lackeys- Chubby Wings and Extendo-Fingers- laugh along with whatever joke that was. It's not sweet, airy, whipped cream laughter. It's bittersweet, like grape flavoured medicine.

Psychic powers filtered through your senses open the door for some weird comparisons, lemme tell ya.

Taking his shaky stance, Green-Hair says something to the kid he's trying to protect, and then gets his fists ready. Well, not ready- he's got his thumbs wrapped in his fists like an idiot. But he's still going to take all of them on.

Finger Boy gets in close first with a karate chop, but Green Hair sees it coming and ducks, then grabs the boy's wrist and jabs the elongated fingers into the soft ground, punctuating the move with a slug to the face.

The winged boy slams into him, though, and then rises up and dives again while he's on his ass. Green Hair gets up quickly, splitting his attention between Wings, Fingers, and Blond Bomb.

I wonder what power Green Hair has. I've never felt a mind move as fast as that kid's. Even if I could read minds (and understand Japanese) I doubt I could keep up with it.

Just as Blond Bomb tries to grab at him- and more sparks fly off his palms- Green Hair moves out of the way, sidestepping Wings as well. He quickly follows up by grabbing the wannabe aviator's shirt and spinning in place to send him right into Finger-Boy.

They bump heads, and the sharp, bold spice of pain drifts over to me. I can't help but lick my lips. That'll surely taste good later.

And yeah, it's a little skeevy of me to be hanging out spying on kids to feed off the emotional residue they'll leave behind, but it's a lot better than pouncing on them and sinking my claws into them and 2) as far as this universe is concerned, I'm the same age as them, so it could be a lot worse.

My clawed fingernails dig into the branch in anticipation, which I'm very thankful for, because right then something tickles my leg and I flinch out of habit, nearly falling out of the tree. Thankfully, it's not an insect, just my tail. Lucky me to get reincarnated as the opposite sex, and still have to deal with an appendage that has a mind of its own. And this one is way more intrusive.

Green Hair and Blond Bomb are going at it with gusto now, Bomb alternating between explosions and punches, Green dodging way more than I thought he'd be able to and throwing out jabs whenever he gets the chance.

After receiving one especially savage blow to the cheek, Bomb takes the metaphorical gloves off and delivers a double-handed blast that sends Green Hair flying. Directly into the tree that I'm hiding in.

Well, okay then.

I leap down as the blond kid stalks forward and land between the two of them.

He says something in Japanese, but all I get from it is confusion and what's probably a curse word.

"I don't speak Japanese," I tell him in English.

There's more Japanese, because Blond Bomb clearly doesn't speak English, but I recognize "nani" as "what."

I pull a small device out of my pocket and talk into it.

"I don't speak Japanese. Talk into this and it'll translate for us."

The device repeats what I said in Japanese. Or at least that's what I have to assume it does. I hold it out for him to use, but he snatches it out of my hand.

Surprisingly enough, he doesn't blow it up, but his response, according to the translation, is about as rude as I expect anyway. "This isn't any of your business, foreigner. Step aside."

"He's done," I tell him. "You won. Now leave him alone."

"Are you gonna do something about it?"

He sets off some more sparks in his hands; it would have been more effective if he didn't stop to pass the translating device back to me first.

"I'm not going to do a thing. I'm just gonna stand here until you move me." I hold out the device for him to speak, since he's still doing his hand-sparking thing.

"I figured."

He waits for me to put the translator into my pocket (he really is polite for a bully) and then throws a punch.

Well, he really thought about it first. I felt his gaze move from my head to my stomach, sizing up the best place to hit me. It was really clear that he didn't care that I'm a girl. Or, at least, in a girl's body. In any case, "intent to harm" counts as an emotion, and given that it was directed at me, it wasn't hard to tell that he was going right for the face, and I intercept his strike easily.

He tries to pull back, but the purple aura surrounding my hand makes his struggles useless. I smile at him, waving with my free hand, and his anger is delicious as he tries harder and harder to wrench his arm free.

He says something in Japanese- I don't need to know the language to understand the idea behind an affronted "Shut up!"- and gives one mighty heave.

That's when I decide to let go, and he ends up smacking himself in the face.

The other two kids have managed to get themselves together while I was messing around with Blond Bomb, and I feel Green Hair's presence come up beside me.

Does this kid not know when to quit? Well, if I'm going to get mixed up in a playground brawl, I might as well go in for the whole pound.

I grab Green Hair's arm and point out the position of his fingers.

"That is a wonderful way to end up breaking your thumb. Take it out of there, and lay it across your knuckles like this." I make a fist next to his as an example

He complies, and his scent becomes marked with the sour/sweet tang of confusion. "I thought you didn't speak Japanese."

"I... Don't? I'm pretty sure I'm speaking English."

"Then how am I understanding you? Is that your power? I thought it would-" It quickly becomes Japanese again when I let go of him.

Curious, I poke him in the back of the hand with one finger.

"- strength enhancement along with a translation ability, there definitely needs to have been a mix of-"

"Skin contact!" I interrupt. "My mother's telepathy works across language barriers too, but I figured I just can't do it while I'm filtering my psychic powers through my senses, or I wouldn't ever, since my powers are more empathic than anything else-"

"Huh. So that's what that sounds like."

"Huh?"

"People tell me I mutter a lot. Maybe you're picking up my mannerisms?"

"Because we're connecting mentally! Though probably on more of an emotional level. Oh, I wonder if that means this is a translation of our literal words, or just what we mean to say-"

An alarm goes off in my head, and my tail jumps into action, wrapping itself around Kacchan's arm and redirecting the explosion that would have gone off in my face.

My tail may be thin, whippy, and intrusive, but it isn't so bad to have an extra limb that's as strong as my hand and as long as my leg.

"That's pretty rude. And dangerous."

I love the smell of surprise. It's always something different. This time, it's got a sort of sugary, minty tang.

"How are you speaking Japanese?"

"It's a psychic thing apparently. Now you and your posse get out of here before I do something about it."

I unwrap my tail, but he manages to snatch it just below the spade-like tip.

"Let's see you do something about this."

His hands spark, and then there's pain. Blinding and All-encompassing.

I come to my senses on the ground, kneeling and clutching the tip of my tail, where the violet scales have been burned black, in what looks like a second degree burn. I look up to the four other kids, and Green Hair is getting manhandled.

It's hard to focus my mind with my own pain and emotions getting in the way, so I move past them. It helps that meditation and mindfulness training is part of the counseling curriculum for psychic kids, at least in the States.

It isn't exactly easy- I may mentally be somewhere in my late twenties, but this body is barely seven. Not very used to dealing with pain. But I get there.

My psychic center is a mountain spring. The air is crisp and fresh, the water clear and still. Right now, though, it's brackish. Somewhat acidic even. But I can handle that. Pain is a signal coming from the brain, just like any other emotion, and I can turn the volume up or down as much as I want. I chose the latter, and the acid in the spring disperses.

Back in reality, the intense throbbing in my tail shrinks to a mild sting. The injury is still there- I'll have to try and get that looked at- but I can move. I can join the fight.

Not that I plan to slug seven-year-olds across the face. Psychological warfare is way more fun, anyway.

I get to my feet and slightly move my mental filter out of the way. Just enough to get everyone's attention for the next step: eye contact. I avoid meeting Green Hair's gaze, though. He's already going to be in the line of fire; I don't need him getting the full brunt.

I go back to my spring and imagine the water as a frothing geyser of rage, spewing sulphuric steam into the sky.

Through the purple haze of my aura, I see the three boys in front of me frozen, the cold, rotten stench of fear wafting from them. I take a step forward, and Wings and Fingers fly and run off. Blond Bomb holds his ground, though.

Really, kids in Japan have cojones.

Still, I can only keep this up for so long, so I focus that same acidic anger in my throat, and yell.

It's more of a short, hard bark, but it gets the job done. Blond Bomb takes off in a serious panic.

Satisfied, I fall back onto the grass while I fix the scene in my mind. Brighten the sky again, put the sun back up. Calm the waters until the spring is clear and smooth and mostly undisturbed again.

The water level is considerably lower. Which is to be expected, I wasn't exactly going for subtlety there. I could do without the deep, empty ache in my stomach, though.

A finger strokes the back of my hand, then four others join it when I don't pull away. It's some green-haired kid. Am I on the ground?

"Um... Are you alive?"

"Debatably, but I'm breathing at least." I try to get up, and my tail protests violently. "What happened? Was there a fight?"

"Yeah. Thanks, by the way."

"You're welcome." A beat. "So what are you thanking me for?"

"You scared them off. It was way cool!"

"Huh. That's why I can't remember anything."

"Because you overused your powers?"

I shrug. "Yeah. It'll come back to me after I take a nap, but... uh, what time is it?"

"12:30 in the afternoon."

"Yeah, last thing I remember was about an hour and a half ago."

There's a lot of things I'm hard-pressed to remember. One particularly nagging thought is that I came to this park to do something important, but my head is too fuzzy. I really do need that nap.

I'm just about ready to knock out when Green Hair's voice snaps me awake.

"Izuku."

"Hm?"

"Izuku Midoriya. That's my name."

"Kalia Zambarau."

"Dham...ba...ru...ao?" His brain makes a noise like a broken-down car as he tries to pronounce it.

"It's Swahili. You can use my first name if you want."

"Okay, Kari-chan!"

With that out of the way, I slowly get to my feet. I don't really want to, But the sooner I get up, the sooner I can find my mom. It's when I leave the playground that I realize I have no idea where to go.

Is this what Dory felt like?

It actually takes a second to realize that Izuku is following me. Which shows how out of it I am- he's got his hand around my wrist and he's talking my ear off. It takes me another second to realize that I'm the one following him. I don't think this is the way back to my hotel.

Eh. My mother's a telepath. She'll find me if she needs me.

"We going to your house?" I ask him.

"Yeah."

"Why are we holding hands?"

"Because you won't understand me if we don't."

That's new.

I can't help but notice how much pain he's in, between the bruises and angry burns, but he's keeping up. Admirable. And tasty.

Not like that. His pain literally smells good. Like a savory hunk of meat, seasoned with a bold, sweetly spicy kick. It's taking most of my self-control to keep my claws from digging into his hand.

"Are your parents gonna be alright seeing you like that?"

"I fight Kacchan all the time. Haven't won yet, but I'm getting there. Mom always patches me up. Do you get in a lot of fights? I bet you use your power to scare people away more often, but you looked like you knew what you were doing."

"My father's power let him boost his physical ability by draining other people's energy. I have a variation of that."

"What's it called?"

Lethargic as I am, his words start to become a buzz in my mind. It's all I can do to stay upright and keep walking, which is really weird given that I'm the one that's supposed to be helping him home (when did we agree to this course of action?). At some point, I slip back into meditation, trusting Izuku to guide us.

Which I was already doing, but now I'm doing it more.

As soon as I reach my center, I know something's wrong with the water. Well, not wrong, but different. I can't tell what it is by standing on the edge, so I do the logical thing and jump right in.

The spring in my mind is also something like a reservoir. The energy in my own body lies at the bottom, and I collect the "drops" of emotional energy that people naturally emit.

So when I feel a current under the water, I know something is up. I explore deeper, almost to the bottom, and find a passage that shouldn't be here, what the actual hell.

I go through it, because I'm not about to find a discrepancy in my mind and not do anything about it, and find myself... in another body of water.

I already experienced Peak Weirdness by being reincarnated into a future and/or alternate dimension where almost everyone's got superpowers, but aside from that? Top spot.

Thankfully, I don't need to breathe here.

I breach the surface and find myself In a more tropical area than I expected. Humid, with lush greenery and lots of life. Well, lots of noise. Mostly of the insect variety. At first glance, it seems to be chaos, but after a while I can see how streamlined and efficient it all is. Like two discordant notes that make a chord when played with with a third.

There is something wrong, though. The water is muddy and polluted in patches. And whatever part of my mind this is, I can't very well leave it like this.

It's like working with the usual(?) area of my mind; there, I just sort of want things to change and they do. Here, getting all the muck and grime collected in one area is enough of a challenge to make my head ache a little. On the other hand, getting it to sink beneath the surface is a lot simpler than usual.

Huh. I guess I must be getting the hang of this whole mind powers thing. Took me seven years.

I don't have much time to congratulate myself, though, because an ethereal blue hand pops out of the water and drags me under before I can blink.


End file.
